


don't wake me (i'm not dreaming)

by queenofcups



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Multi, The Raven King Spoilers, a clusterfuck of feelings, domestic porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofcups/pseuds/queenofcups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Ronan was a natural disaster, Adam was the tree that survived the storm, growing steadily around the current of the wind.<br/>In which drivers are distracted, dogs are adopted, parties are attended, and boys fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't wake me (i'm not dreaming)

**Author's Note:**

> Huh, well, this is a beast of fluffy nonsense that was spawned from my desire to see the boys own a dog and still be snarky about it  
> also sex  
> title taken from Børns "Past Lives"

Adam had never owned air conditioning, which was veritable hell in the heat of a Virginia summer. In his parent’s trailer there was a single unit in the living room window, so during the day Adam would sit in front of it trying to absorb all of the cold he could, until his skin prickled with goosebumps and his sweat turned icy. At night, though, he avoided it. His dad’s sticky leather recliner was in the direct line of the air vents, and the moment the sound of his shoes thudded through the front door of the trailer home, Adam made himself scarce. Safe to say, Adam Parrish learned to take small pleasures where he could.

In his apartment over Saint Agnes, Adam was once again, devoid of AC. He bought one of those cheap standing fans at Target, but there was only so much he could expect from a $20 plastic machine.

When Ronan joined him, though, the heat became a little more bearable.

His room above Saint Agnes came with a frameless Queen bed, but Adam was the one to move it under one of the old warped windows. At night he pulled the pane up at far as it would go and shoved a physics textbook underneath to keep it in open. The occasional soft breeze allowed Adam enough pretense to pull Ronan on top of him on the nights he slept over, wrapping his arms around his neck, burying his face in his chest.

Adam didn’t have a lot of experience kissing people, so his opinion was a definite leap to conclusions, but he doubted that anyone was as all consuming as Ronan Lynch.

When their mouths met, Adam sighed into it, pulling Ronan heavier on top of him. The sheets were abandoned, spilling over onto the floor next to the solitary mattress, half tangled in their feet

Ronan’s elbows were digging into the space next to Adam’s ears, his hands tangled in Adam’s hair, biceps taught with trying to keep himself elevated. He hovered just above Adam’s body with conscientious effort--allowing space to breathe. Adam huffed at the pretense, after a month Ronan should’ve known him better than that.

Adam dragged his hands down so they were curled at the base of Ronan’s tee shirt, then pressed against the small of his back, coaxing him closer.

“Get down here,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against Ronan’s jaw, and smiling when he grunted in response. It took a tug on Adam’s behalf before Ronan was slowly easing himself down, his leg slipping in between Adam’s, their hips slotting together, and the warm heaviness of him on Adam’s chest.

Looking into Ronan’s grey-blue eyes Adam just refrained from blushing at the intimacy. This was it, this was what Adam dreamt of, what had him waking up, panting, in the days after Ronan first kissed him. He could drown in Ronan. He could get lost in the humid crush of the storm, the kind that struck on a hot summer night. The hot gasps Adam drew from Ronan’s lips as he bit a path along his neck, the way his stomach clenched as Adam rucked up his shirt and clawed his fingers into the skin of Ronan’s back--it all just added to the oncoming hurricane.

Adam and Ronan had been kissing for a month now, but it never stopped feeling like it’s the first time, illicit and warm and going right to Adam’s groin.

Ronan pulled on Adam’s hair to get at his neck, biting down and rolling his hips in one smooth motion.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Adam breathed, turning his face outward to gulp down cool air, the moonlight glowing through the window was bright enough to catch in his eyes. When Ronan looked up to meet his gaze, he stilled momentarily, pupils dark and wild.

“You’re gorgeous,” he groaned. Adam tried to deny it, opened his mouth to argue, but Ronan diverted his attention with the heavy grind of his hips. It made Adam’s breath catch again, his arousal flare, his hands scramble to grab at Ronan’s ass, pushing him down again, harder.

“Shut up,” Adam said, his hitching breath lost under the heavy night and chorus of cicadas and crickets harmonizing outside his window. He wanted to say the same thing, though, wanted to be able to open his mouth and tell Ronan everything he’s thinking, tell him how beautiful he was. The sliver of moonlight cut Ronan’s nose and cheekbones into something terrifying in its beauty and Adam wanted Ronan to swallow him whole, to take him and consume him and kiss him until he lost his breath.

“Kiss me,” Ronan whispered before Adam could. A wicked smile flashed on Adam’s face, fast, before he pushed upward, right hand raising to cradle the back of Ronan’s head.

“Always,” he panted against his lips. Open mouthed their kisses grew sloppy, dizzying. Adam’s left hand clutched at Ronan’s ass and pushed his body down as Adam canted his hips up. They met again, then again, again, a rhythm of pushing and pulling that made Ronan growl curses into Adam’s mouth.

Adam’s eyes rolled back as his head grew hazy from more than just the kissing. “ _Oh_ ,” he whimpered, panting heavily as Ronan pulled his lips away and took over. His two hands were back to their places beside Adam’s head, his body held far enough away that Ronan could stare, hard and determined, at the way Adam lost control underneath him.

Both of Adam’s hands were now on Ronan’s hips, clawing and scrambling, sliding under his boxers, to feel the curve of his ass, the unyielding bones of his hips and the muscle stretched, tense, across them.

“ _Fuck_ , oh my God--Ronan,” Adam gasped, his hips rolling up to meet Ronan’s entirely without his permission, like the words spilling out of his lips, entirely without censor. “Please, please, _please,_ fuck me, _fuck_.”

Adam could feel Ronan’s cock through the thin layers of clothing between them, how heavy and demanding it was. With each long, purposeful grind it caught on Adam’s hip, sliding down to the base of his dick where it pulsed demanding and heady.

“Come on, Adam,” Ronan growled above him, lower and raspier than he’d ever heard it--desperate, lewd, fucking hot as hell.

“Yeah, okay, _yeah_ . _Fuck_ ,” Adam yelped, hitting the edge of his release as one of Ronan’s hands came down to palm Adam’s cock through the cotton of his boxer briefs. With a tight squeeze Adam dug his fingernails into Ronan’s ass and moaned his name as he came.

There was a breath before Adam’s arms returned to their spot at Ronan’s neck, tangled tight around his shoulder. Adam kissed him sloppily, licking his way into Ronan’s mouth, their tongues curling around each other.

Ronan exhaled shakily into Adam’s mouth as his grinding steadily became less frantic, more leisurely, trying to keep up with the pace of Adam’s mouth.

Adam ducked to press his lips against Ronan’s ear, nipping at the lobe lazily, feeling content and smug in his post-release haze. “Ronan,” he murmured disapprovingly.

Another reason why Adam liked Ronan pressed against him was because the appeal went both ways, nothing got Adam off more than getting Ronan off.

With a huff Ronan again collapsed against Adam and sighed as Adam’s arms dropped down to wrap around the expanse of his back, his one free leg slinging itself over the back of Ronan’s thighs. Leveraging himself with an elbow on the mattress, Adam flipped them over, until Ronan was underneath him, staring up with wide eyes, bright and shocked.

Adam flushed suddenly with weight of his attention, a bit of post-coitous clarity forcing him to remember all the noises that came out of his mouth only minutes before. That was the thing about Ronan: Adam wanted to be torn apart but couldn’t help but be embarrassed as his desperate greediness. Pushing the thought aside, he slipped his fingers under the waistband of Ronan’s underwear, quirking an eyebrow with a question.

“Do you want me to?” He left the question open but couldn’t help his soft smile at Ronan’s bewildered expression. Ronan’s cock was tenting his boxers enough to cast a shadow across his groin, implying that Ronan wasn’t in the mood to be making any decisions.

Ronan shook his head, either to clear his mind or say no, but either way avoided the question entirely. “Just get me off, Adam, I swear to _God._ ”

Which wasn’t a yes, exactly.

Adam bit his lip and decided to let it go, but, suddenly inspired, his smile rebounded quickly.

“Roll over,” he said, grinning widely despite himself.

Ronan groaned and rolled his eyes but did as he’s asked, turning over, his body sliding beneath Adam until he was prone on his stomach.

For a moment Adam just reveled in Ronan’s body, the round curve of his ass, the slope of his back that became the broadness of his shoulders where his tee shirt--that was _still on_ somehow--creased and shadowed with his muscles. That was the issue with Ronan, he was so damn overwhelming that Adam was coming before he even considered taking any clothes off.

Maybe that’s where Ronan’s earlier hesitance about being underwear-less came from. Either way, Adam promised himself, shucking Ronan’s shirt up until he saw the beginning of his back tattoo curling from underneath the hem, they would talk about it later.

“I’m coming down there,” Adam warned, before he fell on top of Ronan, his front plastered to his back. The wet spot in his pants was sticky and uncomfortable, but Adam knew he owed Ronan this and more for his single minded sexual determination. So Adam nestled his crotch to the curve of Ronan’s ass and smiled as Ronan groaned at the sensation.

“You gonna try to fuck me like this?” Ronan mumbled against the bed. Adam tried not to imagine it, he was trying not to get too worked up but that was hard when dealing with Ronan, who threw sex around like a battering ram, breaking down Adam’s walls. Turning his face to the side Ronan took a deep breath and tried again, “If you can get it up again this quick I’ll be impressed.”  

“I’m a teenager,” Adam retorted, before kissing Ronan’s exposed cheekbone, his jawline, the space behind his ear. “Don’t test me.”

Then, without warning, he ground his cock--still vaguely hard, against Ronan’s ass.

“ _Fucking shitting fuck_ ,” Ronan gasped, his hands coming up to grab at the bedsheets.

“Yeah?” Adam whispered into Ronan’s ear, biting at his neck again with the next hip roll.

“Yeah _yeah_ ,” Ronan choked, not so intimidating and wild as he gasped into the mattress, humping backwards to meet Adam’s hips and moaning when he was pushed forward every time, clothed cock dragging against the bed.

Ronan swore and reached up to wrap his hand around Adam’s wrist, fingers tightening as Adam ground his hips wantonly into Ronan’s ass.

“Fuck Adam,” he whispered, turning his face back to the side and humming as Adam captured his mouth in wet kisses. “God you’re the worst, the absolute _worst._ ”

Adam chuckled and bit Ronan’s bottom lip with another roll of his hips. “Yeah but you’re still gonna come.”

“Shut the hell up you goddamn-” Ronan’s sentence dissolved into moans as Adam wrapped one hand around to grab at his cock, rubbing it through his boxers with the pace of their thrusting. “ _Adam._ ”

With a loud shout Ronan came, unraveling in Adam’s hands, mouth hanging open as he gulped for breaths. Wrapping his arms tighter around Ronan, Adam held on through the aftershocks and rolled them over to their sides. Rearranging their limbs a bit, Adam let Ronan breathe himself back into equilibrium while cuddling into his back.

After a minute of gulpin in the cool air spilling over the window frame, Ronan snorted and tucked his head back into the crook of Adam’s shoulder.

“I hate that I’m the little spoon,” he muttered, although the way he was trying to tuck himself deeper into the embrace said otherwise.

“Yeah alright, tomorrow I’ll write a formal complaint to the higher power that decides these sort of things,” Adam said snarkily, before nipping at Ronan’s ear again. With an affronted noise Ronan reached back to slap at whatever part of Adam he could make contact with, causing Adam to dissolve into soft giggles and move away without dislodging himself from Ronan’s back.

“You’re the worst, I don’t know why we’re dating,” Ronan grumbled.

“Because you’re a masochist,” Adam suggested, nuzzling into Ronan’s neck and kissing the curve he found there. “You love the pain.”

“God knows you _are_ a pain,” he replied, sighing, but his voice was getting quieter, like he was seriously considering falling asleep right then and there. Adam refrained from rolling his eyes because it would be completely lost on Ronan, but resigned himself to sleeping in his sticky boxers all night. That was a problem for him in the morning, for now, though, he thought more about matching the pace of his breathing with Ronan’s.

For a while it was all quiet except for the wind and the crickets.

Then, in the darkness of the room, Adam felt Ronan talk before he understood what was being said. “I do like you, you know? And I like this, more than words can say.”

Adam smiled into Ronan’s back and gave him one squeeze, so he knew Adam heard him.

“Yeah, me too.”

* * *

 

Ronan had this thing about driving in cars on highways, which entailed rolling down all the windows and angry bopping to his shitty, shitty electro pop.

Adam bit his lip against a smile and looked away from where Ronan was idly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, head nodding along to some hidden baseline, lingering somewhere far underneath levels of synth and sound editing.

Adam leaned a bit to the side to peer through the open window and up ahead, trying in vain to see any suggestion of where the traffic ended. There was really no hope, this was the part of Route 15 where there was only one lane so in all likelihood some poor sap hit a cow or whatever, did more damage to his car than the animal, and caused a multicar pileup. With a sigh Adam ran a hand through his hair, these were issues that only occurred in rural Virginia.

The sun beat down hot on the two of them that Sunday afternoon in the sleek black car. Ronan had turned the BMW AC up as high as it would go and Adam greedily turned all the vents he could get his hands on in his direction. They rarely ventured far outside of Henrietta, but Ronan had showed up at Saint Agnes and declared that Blue knew about some flea market or other in a nearby town that was open today if Adam was “bored out of his skull” and needed some things to crowd his “already abnormally miniscule apartment.” Ronan had tilted an eyebrow in Adam’s direction as he deliberated, which seemed vaguely like a challenge, so Adam sent him a similar look and agreed to join.

It didn’t take them long to hit the traffic.

Adam cast a quick glance at his reflection in the sideview mirror to see how disobedient his hair was being after subjected to a lot of tousling, when Ronan, of course, caught him.

“Checking yourself out there, Parrish?” He asked with a chuckle, causing Adam to startle and wrench himself upright. He turned a glower in Ronan’s direction and was met with a smug smirk. “If you need a second opinion I’d say 8/10, always leave room for improvement, I’m not going to encourage your vanity.”

Adam rolled his eyes and tried to fight against the smile pushing the corners of his lips upward. “Thanks, oh fashion guru, I one day hope to be as stylish as you.”

“Damn straight,” Ronan said with a self satisfied huff, turning his attention back to the road as traffic moved forward half of an inch. “But, Jesus, this traffic, what poor livestock animal do you think sacrificed themself today to make our commute a living hell?”

“What makes you say livestock animal?” Adam asked, running his finger along one of the seams of the BMW’s leather seat. “Maybe someone ran over the chupacabra, or some ancient magical creature come to Henrietta, as all ancient magical creatures are wont to do.”  

“Of course, and then had to call in the secret branch of the FBI that deals with things like these, and we all know about government timeliness.”

“You mean how it doesn’t exist?” Adam asked.

Clicking his tongue Ronan pointed at Adam, “Five points.”

“Hooray, more arbitrary points,” Adam said, rolling his eyes despite the goofy grin on his face.

“Another possibility we haven’t really considered yet-” Ronan began in his Gansey voice, before he stopped short. “Holy shit I love this song.”

His words registered too late. “No, please don’t,” Adam started, about to plead with Ronan, but there was no hope. With a manic grin Ronan turned up the volume on the stereo until Adam could feel the baseline thrumming under his seat and swore he was hearing it out of _both_ ears. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, but it was lost to the electro. His sanity would be soon to follow.

“Isn’t this great!?” Ronan cried, over the sound of what must have been a nokia phone being blended. Adam grimaced in reply. It wasn’t the worst thing ever, and, really, Adam didn’t mind the techno that much, a more honest part of him would even admit that he found it comforting, but there was no way in hell he was admitting that out loud.

“Yeah wow, what artistry,” he yelled back, watching Ronan bounce along to the noise. And that’s when the most amazing thing happened. Ronan started singing along. Or at least trying to.

“Bah baaah bum bum bum da, da, da, da,” he mimicked the synth with some well timed shoulder movements that had Adam abandoning all pretense and bursting out into laughter.

“What are you _doing_ you maniac,” he yelped, hiding his mouth with his hands and staring at Ronan with a mix of hilarity and awe.

“Sorry can’t hear you, I’m laying out my _sick beats,_ ” he yelled back, a grin splitting his face in two, eyes catching with Adam’s and lighting up.

Adam felt like he was watching something he wasn’t supposed to--prince of darkness and mischief Ronan Lynch dancing along to his pretentious Eurotrash music? It was like seeing Blue eating something that wasn’t yogurt, Gansey wearing Dr. Martens, Cheng in Walmart. Safe to say weird and amazing and probably worth recording.

Adam didn’t reach for his phone, though, but just watched and laughed as Ronan grew more ridiculous as the base dropped. Ronan casted glances over to where Adam was watching him and seemed to grow more smug as Adam’s laughter increased. The music eventually faded out into something else that was apparently not as inspiring, for Ronan turned the volume back down to it’s normal level.

Adam couldn’t help but give a sarcastic round of applause. “Oh wow, that was something, you never told me you were that talented.”

With a sharp bark of laughter, Ronan shrugged carelessly, “Couldn’t have you dating me just because of my fame, you know? Gotta keep that sorta thing hidden until you know if they’re in it for the real you.”

No matter how flippant Ronan could be, Adam knew that this was a remarkably vulnerable moment that he could ruin by being a sarcastic asshole. This was the real Ronan, not the act he put on to piss people off. This was Ronan, dropping all of his carefully crafted defenses.

Adam reached out to where Ronan’s hand was wrapped around the gearshift and laid his on top, twining their fingers together. For a quick moment he pulled Ronan’s hand towards him to press a kiss into the center of his palm. His lips lingered on the warmth of it, even if it was slightly sweaty it was real, _Ronan_ was real _._ Adam quickly looked back ahead at the traffic, a secret smile still tucked on his lips. He ignored Ronan’s gaze even if it fell heavy on the side of his face, their still joined hands returning to the stick shift.

“I’ll take what I can get, I guess,” Adam said, a bit of a late reply. He didn’t try too hard to pass it off as casual and the words rang sincere.

“I guess you will.”

Adam could tell when Ronan’s gaze finally turned back forward, just as the person in front of him began to move once more. Ronan dragged his thumb across one of Adam’s fingers, and he was glad that he couldn’t see him blushing.

When they finally got to the Flea Market, Adam bought a record player for $20 and a crate of old records for $10--a bit of a splurge when that money could be put towards food. He felt a twinge of guilt as he piled the two on top of each other and hefted them into his arms. Adam was thinking about Blue, though, about the way she would put a heavy hand on his shoulder and declare, with a straight face, “treat yourself.”

He was borrowing her philosophy for an afternoon.

“Maybe this will teach you something about good music, eh?” Adam quipped at Ronan with a smug smile, dropping his newly acquired treasure in the back seat of the BMW. He went to wipe the dirt of his chest, but before he could make contact Ronan reached out to snatch his hand.

With a far softer look than Adam’s words deserved, Ronan grinned and pressed a kiss to Adam’s knuckles.

“Try your hardest, hipster trash,” Ronan mumbled against his hand, their eyes meeting.

Adam flushed bright pink, in the middle of the dusty parking lot, and Ronan bit his middle finger teasingly, smiling like he had already won.

Adam snatched his hand away with a glare, they’ll see about that.

* * *

 

If he were to choose, Adam would rate Ronan’s bed at Monmouth as the second most comfortable piece of furniture he’s ever slept on. The first being Ronan’s bed at the Barns and the third being an incredibly offensive mustard colored couch at 300 Fox Way.

Adam was new to indulging in greed, which could also be interpreted as allowing himself any semblance of comfort. He started by napping on Ronan’s beds at any available opportunity. A lot of the reason why this became a common occurrence was because Ronan seemed more than happy to indulge in afternoon naps, with the windows wide open, the summer sunlight filtering through the trees, Adam’s head pillowed on the spot between Ronan’s neck and shoulder.

Normally he’d be passed out cold, fingers curled into the warmth at Ronan’s stomach, where his tank top met his shorts. Now, though, Adam had pilfered Ronan’s phone and was idly scrolling through his sparse Facebook feed instead of facing his own mind.

God, this was his life now wasn’t it? Over thinking things instead of asking Ronan, who was honest to a fault, about what he felt. Adam knew he was being dramatic, there was no big source of anxiety only a general mix of everything, really. They were enjoying their last days in Ronan’s room at Monmouth, cardboard packing boxes piled in the corner for when he finally made the move back to the Barns. The room would still be his, sure, until it was abdicated for good at the end of the summer, but it would lose everything that made it Ronan’s. Adam had mixed feelings about the endeavor entirely, but wasn’t quite sure if he was allowed to have them in the first place.

He has just had so many memories of this room, well, memories of imagining this room. Imagining what it would be like to be Ronan in his whimsical, shadowy cave. And then, even further, to be with Ronan in this room, like they are now, to delve into the mystery surrounding this place, surrounding the person.

Adam should have known it really wasn’t that mysterious to begin with, even now, tucked into Ronan’s side as he slept soundly, he could hear Gansey and Blue chattering away, the dull roar of some internet video playing in the background, the distant crow of Chainsaw as she played babysitter to Opal outside.

It was more familiar than Adam had ever imagined it could be.

Adam didn’t particularly like change, he guessed it was a fact he had to get used to.

He had just settled into ignoring it all completely and watching a viral video about a puppy with a water hose when Ronan stirred under his head.

“Adam?” He mumbled, and Adam felt him stretching his arms, folded under his head. “Why do I hear very faint barking.”

Adam smirked and craned his head up, so his chin was vaguely propped against Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan had opened his eyes a sliver and was peering at Adam, one eyebrow raised in his best impression of a disapproving raven.

With a shrug, Adam tossed the phone aside and rolled so he was more sprawled across Ronan’s front. “Facebook, man, it’s a trap.”

Adam leveraged himself a bit so he could press a kiss into Ronan’s jaw, humming as he dragged his lips down his neck.

“I could have told you that, now get back here,” Ronan loosened one of his arms so he could gently grab Adam’s chin and direct him back upwards.

“Needy, needy,” he said, smiling against Ronan’s lips. He was weak, though, and obliged anyway, pressing their mouths together warmly. When Ronan opened his mouth to deepen the kiss Adam shifted forward, evening his weight and bringing himself closer to Ronan’s perpetual warmth. Adam wrapped his arms around Ronan’s shoulders, dragging his fingertips through his buzzed hair and grinning at the sensation.

Ronan nipped at Adam’s lips in reproach but it didn’t stop the pace of his kisses, which dragged long and sleepy slow, a sort of contented pace that sent chills down Adam’s spine. Maybe misinterpreting the move, Ronan shifted so that both of his arms are wrapped around Adam’s back, holding him tight.

With a soft groan, Ronan’s hands drifted to Adam’s ass, his hips shifting, and, suddenly, Adam realized that he could get very carried away with this.

Adam pulled back with a wet noise that makes his face flush.

“What’s wrong?” Ronan murmured, eyes cautiously watching Adam’s departure.

“Nothing, it’s just,” He trailed off in an attempt to collect his thoughts, but it put Ronan immediately on the defensive.

Ronan’s eyebrows furrowed as he moves to sit up straighter, a move Adam rolls his eyes at but reluctantly allowed, slipping sideways off Ronan’s body.

“C’mon Parrish what’s wrong, spit it out,” Ronan prompted, poking his finger into Adam’s chest. Adam knew that this is the opening he needed, the moment he could use to alleviate just a little bit of the worry on his mind.

But, Christ, it’s hard to be the first person to say something.

“Ugh,” he moaned, but reluctantly pulled himself more upright until he was sitting across from Ronan, who was bolstered against the headrest. “Ok, I’m just like, wondering,” he sighed, and tries not to look at Ronan’s concerned face. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. I’m not, like, pushing or anything.”

Ronan reached out to lock his fingers with Adam’s, and it was a centering of sorts, it made him recalibrate, go back over the words he wanted to say.

Turning over Ronan’s hand in his, Adam took a deep sigh and then plunged right in, “You wanna have sex, right?”

“ _Jesus_ Parrish,” Ronan barked, his eyes wide and face a bright pink--Adam imagined he looked a bit similar. “Wow, alright.”

“No, no, this is just a thing and we haven’t talked about it and,” Adam was rushing through this. “Shit, okay, I just wanted to talk since we have time and we have a bed and I apparently have no self control.” Adam felt his face grow hotter, “I just was getting a bit lost there and didn’t want to,” he flapped his hand, “y’know, go any further until we talked.”

Ronan was quiet for a couple seconds, but he kept Adam’s hand in his, so maybe hope wasn’t entirely lost.

“Parrish,” Ronan sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You’re one earnest and sincere motherfucker, you know that right?” And Adam could see a small smile peeking out from behind his hand.

Thanking every deity he could think of that he didn’t fuck things up, Adam grinned and grabbed Ronan’s other hand.

“I’ve been told, yeah,” Adam said, shrugged, then kissed Ronan’s palms, cradled in his. “Just talk to me?”

“Of course,” Ronan said, looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, a bit wary but completely honest. “Adam--this is hard shit, alright? Don’t judge me too much.”

Adam rolled his eyes and gestured at him to get on with it. Ronan visibly steeled himself, before, “Yes, okay, I do want to have sex.” Even him saying it out loud made Ronan turn a bright red, it was unnecessarily adorable. “And it’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do, one hundred percent. It’s just, vulnerabilities, y’know?”

Nodding, Adam started playing with Ronan’s fingers, which distracted him from his words just enough to make it more comfortable. “I wanna fuck, it’s just,” Ronan’s lip curled up in a semblance of a snarl, but it was more self deprecating than anything. “It’s scary, alright, fuck it, I’m intimidated.” His voice rose until, at the end of the sentence, he was visibly defensive.

“Hey, Ronan,” Adam said, before Ronan could dig himself deeper into some sort of guilt spiral. Tugging on Ronan’s hands, Adam attempted to reclaim his attention. “Thank you. Babe-” he said, the word slipping out of his lips without his permission, but he couldn’t be assed to care. “Hey,” he repeated, gently, leaning forward to press his lips softly to Ronan’s cheek.

Pulling away Adam looked Ronan in the eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Ditto,” he said, shrugging wildly. Something about this brand of honesty was intoxicating, the way he could feel his worry lifting off him. Scared was an emotion Adam was familiar with. “This is terrifying, I don’t want to fuck up, but we’re in this together.” Adam leaned forward but this time his kiss landed at the corner of Ronan’s surprised mouth. “Well, we both don’t want to fuck up, together.”

“You got that right,” Ronan muttered, but smiled at Adam’s rare vocal affection. They weren’t exactly very conversational about their feelings, Adam and Ronan were people of action, not words, but sometimes relying on interpretation was stressful. There were layers to behavior, words were straightforward. “Can you, just,” Ronan shrugged helplessly. “Give me warning beforehand, I guess? And also not bring up sex when Gansey and Blue are _literally_ outside?”

“Yeah I realize now this is a bit of a strange situation.”

“You realize you’re nuisance, you mean?” Ronan replied, but gathered Adam closer until he was perched on Ronan’s lap, arms around his shoulders.

Adam shrugged, guiltlessly, and Ronan growled at his blase smile before kissing it off his face.

“Hey,” Adam said, pulling away to look at Ronan, admiring just how gorgeous he was in the slanted sunlight. “I like you, you know?”

Ronan looked derisive, but his lips were twitching up at the corners. “No, tell me more, Parrish. Do you like me? Or do you _like_ like me?”

Adam snorted, faux prim, and nipped at Ronan’s neck. “Wow, sorry, asshole.”

Ronan smiled like he was proud, but didn’t fight when Adam pulled him down onto the bed with his hands and lips.

* * *

 

When Adam got off work Tuesday afternoon, he was surprised to see Blue waiting for him, perched on her bike.

“Adam,” She greeted, cheerily, hopping off what was definitely an excuse for a rickety death machine.

“Blue,” he said cautiously. It was rare for anyone but Ronan to be picking him up from work-- even though he didn’t necessarily need a ride anymore, his car waiting on the far end of the factory parking lot. “What’s up?”

She waved off the undercurrent of concern in his voice. “Looks like I got custody of you tonight. Don’t look so put out-” she chastised, slapping Adam playfully on his arm. “Your boyfriend will probably come to collect eventually.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile at her, as Blue wheeled her bike alongside him and began a rant about Jimi’s new obsession with crystals.

“I really shouldn’t be complaining,” she said with a huff, as Adam opened the backseat of the Hondayota to shove her bike in. “Like they’re pretty, yadda yadda, and even Calla admits that they might be working, which is a rarity in and of itself. But now Jimi’s convinced that there’s, like, a quartz mine in the backyard and is trying to persuade everyone that she should rent an excavator for the afternoon.”

Adam laughed as Blue flung herself into the passenger seat, in a huff. “If you want me to talk to her,” Adam offered, “I know, for a fact, that there’s a quarry somewhere in the area and it’s far more likely that if you break in and steal a couple rocks it’s both easier and cost effective.”

Blue thought about it for a minute, “I would agree, but the issue is that she’s going to send _me_ out to do all the heavy lifting.”

“Oh sorry,” Adam said, pulling out of his parking spot and onto the road towards Fox Way. “I didn’t realize this was a question of your laziness, I apologize, I can find a way to convince them that you’re allergic to crystals if you want?”

Blue pouted and slouched further into her seat. “I liked you better when you weren’t dating Ronan, he’s turned you into an jerk.”

Adam just laughed, and refrained from admitting that he was always like this. He just used to be better at hiding it.

 

 

Blue had always been a fantastic creature, one of leaves and lightning. Adam always looked at her with something akin to desire, he didn’t think that would change anytime soon. He discovered, at some point in the past couple months, that it wasn’t really a desire to be with her, but to be like her. Regardless, one of his favorite things to do was sit at her kitchen counter and listen to her complain with a mouthful of yogurt.

“It’s not like I need immaculate, high quality hiking gear for this, y’know?” she was saying, scraping the bottom of her chobani with a spoon. “But you know how Gansey can be, and Cheng is even worse. It’s not good enough that a backpack or whatever is new, it also has to be _couture_ and _fashionable_.” She sneered at the thought, but Adam could tell it was with the utmost affection.

Adam was a bit jealous of the trip the three of them were planning, but it was a soft kind of jealousy. The type that meant he wistfully wished he could go trapezing across the world on a whim, but knew it wasn’t exactly practical. A bigger part of him was also too anxious for college to really care too much. There was always studying abroad, and there was always Ronan.

“Blue, if anyone can prove to him that being fashionable does not mean being expensive it’s you.” Adam said, shrugging and sipping his tea--the store bought kind that Blue hid from her mom in order to avoid her entrepreneurial adventures. Maura had recently shared that she was working on copyrighting the name Third Eye Juice and Tea in the 300 Fox Way group chat of which Adam was inexplicably a member. He was added by Calla ,of all people, with the excuse that he’s a psychic, which was as good as being a member of the house. Adam still didn’t understand, but he was rolling with it.

Blue opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the front door swinging wide open.

“Coca-Cola shirt!” Jimi greeted loudly, her hands full of heavy canvas bags. “I knew you’d be here, but not for long, anyway--gifts!”

Blue sarcastically cheered as Jimi dropped her bags on the laminate countertop, but she grew steadily more suspicious as the contents tumbled inside.

“Jimi,” she said, cautious. “Are those rocks?”

“Oh sweetie,” she said, banging around the kitchen for God knows what, but looking unbelievably happy as she did it. “You ask like you don’t already know.”

Adam and Blue watched, suitably awed, as Jimi pulled out a large glass bowl and filled it with hot water, coarse sea salt, and sprigs of lavender--fished out from on top of the refrigerator.

“Alright, kids, now how are your auras feeling?” She asked, spilling all the crystals out of her bag and on top of the counter, creating two little mountains. A little avalanche occurred on the south side and a loose quartz bumped into Adam’s mug.

“Uh,” Adam replied. “Fine, I guess?” He was looking curiously at the crystals commanding the attention of the kitchen. He never admitted it, but he loved the women at 300 Fox Way. They were studious, creative, and constantly reinventing, priorities Adam shared. There was always a new experiment going on, smudging, dream walking, reading bones, or really whatever trend they could use bring in a bit of extra cash. That was another thing Adam could sympathize with, the constant search for a little more money.

“Hmph!” She snorted, separating out some garnets. “Nonsense, let me look at you.”

Adam shrugged but held out his hand, which Jimi grabbed in her large warm grip, peering intensely into his eyes. Recently, Jimi had declared herself “queen of chakras,” announcing it in the group chat quite dramatically. _It’s official!!!_ she had sent, _Ur now looking @ the queen of chakras,_ complete with a crown emoji as if it was an actual award she had been gifted.

Now, though, she seemed to be getting some sort of reading off Adam, looking for things he couldn’t even begin to name.

She hummed, dropped his hand, and proceeded to rifle around in the piles. “I’m sensing something for your throat, maybe,” she said, and tossed a chunk of turquoise into the water. “Definitely for your solar plexus,” she muttered to herself, adding a piece of what looked like amber. “Drink more lemon water, y’hear?”

Adam smiled but nodded placatingly, “Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s good to know that your sacral is doing just fine, though,” she chortled, winking at Adam and causing him to flush red.

“Oh my God,” he groaned, and buried his face in his hands.

Blue just started to grin smugly, like it was the best thing she’s ever heard. “Oooh, Adam, passionate are we? I wonder why that is?”

Orla’s voice appeared somewhere over Adam’s shoulder. “Probably has something to do with the person about to text in thirty seconds,” she declared, casually, flitting into the kitchen before leaning against the counter and making a grab for the rose quartz.

“God knows you don’t need any more of that in your life,” Jimi chastised, pushing it out of Orla’s way before she can wrap her fingers around it. “Also, forty seconds,” sending a sharp grin in her daughter’s direction.

Adam spoke before he could really think about it. “Thirty five.”

They looked at him quickly, considering, then at each other. Adam watched them commence a silent staring contest as the time ticked by, the only sound was Blue scooping the last of her yogurt out of the cup.

Then, Adam’s phone buzzed.

“Thirty four,” announced Blue, smiling around the spoon in her mouth.

“Ha!” cried Orla, swooping in to grab the rose quartz from her mom’s hands.

“You didn’t win,” Jimi said, turning her nose up and returning to sorting through the rocks, unbothered.

“I was closer than you, though,” she replied, before hip checking Jimi and disappearing back up the stairs.

Jimi sighed as soon as the sound of Orla’s footsteps faded out. “Children, I tell you, they make everything into a competition.”

“I’m sure she’ll grow out of it one day,” Blue offered, shrugging, as if she wasn’t younger than her cousin.

“Play nice, Blue.” Jimi said. “And for god sakes Coca-Cola, you can look at your phone.”

Adam obliged, pulling it out of his back pocket while Jimi moved to take Blue’s hand.

“You’re not trying this on me!” she yelped, trying to avoid her aunt. Adam knew she didn’t really have a choice, but he let her play this one out and checked his phone.

His phone was a relatively new one, given to him by Ronan one morning with the explanation that it wasn’t a _real_ phone. He hadn’t paid anyone for it, just pulled it out of his dreams. It featured unlimited data, texts, and battery life, but besides all that, Ronan had explained, it was just a normal phone.  
Adam hadn’t wanted to accept it, but a part of him knew that if he hadn’t taken it, then it would just collect dust in the corner of the barns somewhere. And anyway, “Does this mean that you’re going to miss me?” He asked with a smirk. Ronan shrugged uncasually, Adam took it as a yes.

_Just bought a truck_ , the text said _where u?_

Adam felt his eyebrows furrow immediately.

_What?_ He texted back, fingers quick across the smartphone screen. _I’m at Blue’s, but I repeat - what?_

Ronan ignored him completely, _b there in 15_.

With a sigh, Adam slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked back to where Blue was pouting loudly and letting Jimi hold different stones against her arm.

Blue raised her eyebrow when Adam looked at the scene in surprise, as if he was naive to expect anything less from Fox Way.

“Apparently the rocks like me,” Blue snarked, which just made Jimi just smile and pinch her cheek. “Anyway, what was the topic of the highly controversial text?”

“Apparently Ronan bought a truck,” Adam said. He could only shrug when Blue turned a bewildered look in his direction. “I really cannot explain.”

“Ronan?” She said, blinking in surprise. “Bought? A _truck_?”

“That’s what I heard,” Adam replied, grabbing his backpack from where it was tossed under his chair. “And apparently he’s gonna drive by to show it off in, like,” he checked his watch, “forteen minutes?”

“Y’hear that Jimi?” Blue said, nudging her aunt with her elbow, forearm still being used as valuable gemstone real estate. “Duty calls!”

“More like trouble,” she said with an indulgent smile. “Fine, get out of here, but that arm is mine later!”

“Wow creepy,” Blue said, rolling her eyes and scampering off before Jimi could swat at her. “C’mon Adam!” She hollered, slipping into her unlaced boots and slipping out the front door in record time.

“Don’t forget your crystals!” Jimi reminded him, dipping her hand into the cleansing bath and fishing out the aforementioned hunks of rock.

“Thanks,” he said, with a tentative smile as she poured them into his hands. “I’ll see you later, then, good luck.”

She waved him off and Adam felt a little silly to admit that holding them was immediately comforting, a reassuringly natural presence against his skin. Ignoring their wet warmth, he tucked them into his hoodie pockets and allowed himself to admit that the prospect of crystals was rather intriguing.

He stepped out of Fox Way’s front door and into the gentle night air, taking a deep breath of the lingering warmth radiating from the pavement.

“I love nights like these,” Blue remarked quietly from where she was sitting on the porch steps, her eyes fixed on the patches of purple sky peaking through the trees crowding the horizon. Adam hummed his agreement and sat down slowly, joining her in contemplation. For a couple minutes they entertained each other with random conversation, the color of the scarf Blue was knitting (despite the summer heat), when Adam had to sign up for classes, the idea of Ronan threatening car salesmen.

And then, fourteen minutes later, Ronan drove up with the wind.

“Jesus!” Yelped Blue, as the truck rolled up to stop right in front of them. “That’s massive.” She waited until Ronan opening his door before adding, in a much louder voice “and old as sin, where did you get that piece of junk?”

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” Ronan said with a sharp smile, oozing out of the front seat to land boot-first, heavy on the sidewalk, his giant black truck parallel to the line Blue and Adam made. “Parrish.” He greeted, inclining his head at Adam who was still sitting, knees high to his chest, examining the beast of a machine.

“Lynch,” he replied, automatically, rising to his feet and slowly walking forward. Somewhere from behind them he could hear Blue sarcastically snort the word “adorable” under her breath. “A Ford F-150?” He said, considering. “I’m going to say 1987?”

Ronan just smiled as Adam approached, his steps careful, like he was greeting a wild animal, “Close, but 1988.”

Adam could see that now, the slightly squared off nose, chrome sideview mirrors, small red racing stripe cutting through the inky black paint job, and--”Is the suspension raised on this thing?” He said, surprised to note that it was, indeed, a bit taller than it should be.

“I know this might be shocking,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes at the judgement in Adam’s voice. “But I did get this thing _used_.”

Adam made a noise of fake disappointment, but looked at Blue who was standing on her tiptoes to peer into the bed of the truck. “Well it’ll make it difficult for some people to get in,” Adam said with a sly smile, trailing off as Blue glanced over at him.

“Are you talking about me?” She demanded dropping to flat feet, still indignant as Ronan snickered. “Real mature guys, sorry I wasn’t born a six foot neanderthal like the rest of you.”

“And what a shame that is, I’m sure it’d make a lovely picture,” Adam retorted, smiling as Blue punched him in the arm, and then, unsatisfied, reached further to hit Ronan too.

“What the fuck?” He said, recoiling as if he was offended. “Why did you punch me? I didn’t say anything.”

“You’ve corrupted him,” Blue replied, sniffing loftily. “He never resorted to short jokes until he started dating you.”

“I’ve just enlightened him, is all,” Ronan said, swinging his arm easily over Adam’s shoulder and tugging him closer against his body. “Y’know, low hanging fruit and all.”

Blue snorted and bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes still roaming the car looming behind Adam and Ronan. “So what? Did you finally get tired of driving fast and looking cool? Decided to retire the BMW for a working class car?”

“Yeah,” Adam joined in, pulling just far back enough to look at the side of Ronan’s face. “What’s up with the split second decision?”

Ronan shrugged expansively, “It’s practical, what can I say? I’m a farmer now, this just comes with the territory.”

“Have you even looked under the hood?” Adam asked, nudging his elbow into Ronan’s side. “For all you know it could be falling apart in there.”

“It drives,” Ronan replied, “So that’s good enough for me.”

“Jesus,” said Adam, ducking from under Ronan’s arm to the front of the truck. He searched around for the latch before popping the hood open and peering down at the engine. Scrunching his face up, Adam examined the old machine and did a quick diagnostics.

“Is everything good?” Blue asked, sidling up next to him, and having to stand on her tiptoes again to look down into the engine. Ronan loped behind her to settle on Adam’s other side.

“Well,” Adam said, considering. “It’s dirty as hell in there but looks like some parts have been replaced, which is good cause that means someone cared for this beast.”

“See,” Ronan said, lazily thumping the side of the truck. “I did good.”

“But-” Adam said, interrupting the celebratory smugness. “I’m going to have to clean this all off and check it out.”

Ronan shrugged, opened his mouth, and shut it again. He blushed slightly before speaking, “I can always dream up any parts you need, yeah?”

Adam closed the hood and tucked a smile into his chest, hiding his face from the two of them. “Yeah, I guess you can.”

Blue made a disgusted noise, but didn’t look to upset about it at all.

* * *

 

“You know what we’re missing?” Adam said, leaning his arms against the wooden fence lining the sheep’s pasture. Inside Ronan was filling the water tubs with a bucket, filled from the yard hydrant that instantly produced clean water without being sourced to a well. Magic, Ronan would remind when Adam started to grumble about why _precisely_ that shouldn’t work.

Further inside the fence, the flock of wooly Romney sheep grazed lazily, flicking cool uninterested looks at Ronan clomping around inside their territory.

Adam couldn’t help but admit that he liked the ridiculously wooly creatures. He could see the baby lambs, just five months old, diving in and out of the herd, trying to find some trouble to get into.

Ronan grunted in return to Adam’s question, and flung the empty water bucket over the fence before following suit. He hopped--muck boots first--to land next to Adam.  
“Pray tell, what’s missing?” He said, wiping the sweat off of his forehead and copying Adam’s pose, forearms against wood.

Adam turned his face towards the sun and let a smile cross his lips, “A dog.”

“A dog?” Ronan replied. Raising his eyebrows and turning to look at Adam. “We own a farm, I think we have enough animals without adding a Yorkie, or whatever.”

Adam just rolled his eyes as Ronan pushed off and started walking towards the barn. “You know it’s not going to be a Yorkie,” he said, falling in stride with Ronan. “I’m talking a guard dog, or a herding dog.”

“Jeez, think about it much?” Ronan muttered, ducking into the sheep barn.

“I have a short list for breeds,” Adam replied, smiling.

“Of _course_ you do.”

“C’mon Ronan,” Adam said, laughing. When Ronan snorted but kept walking, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, Adam jumped in front to stop him. “Just think about it, yeah? And we’d rescue the thing too, take it out of whatever suburban hell it’s been subjected to and bring them to a farm, where they were meant to be.”

“Jesus Adam,” Ronan sighed, eyebrows drawing together. “Why can’t I just dream one for you?”

“You can,” Adam said, “but I’d much rather adopt one first, then we can get working on a herd of dogs to match the cows, sheep, and deer.”

“Great, I’ve always wanted to branch out.”

“So does that mean yes?” Adam said, biting his bottom lip.

“That means you find a dog and we’ll talk about it.” He said, voice reluctant, but smile betraying his real feelings.

“Knew you’d say yes,” Adam says, softly, before reaching up to press a kiss to Ronan’s cheek.

“Haven’t said yes yet,” Ronan called, standing in the middle of the barn as Adam started towards the main house. “And what’s this thing you have about lost causes, Parrish?”

Adam turned around, so he could walk backwards and see the twist of Ronan’s mouth as he considered what he just got himself into. “I’ve always found them to be thankful for a second chance.”

 

Adam couldn’t actually put words to why he was a dog person. If he thought about it, there may be something about the fact that they were known as “man’s best friend,” and as a kid, that’s all he could ask for. A dog was an impossibility in the small trailer, but sometimes he would bike by a labrador retriever in a suburban lawn and dream about what it must be like to come home to that life - a house, a yard, a dog.

He felt a little guilty about getting one before going off to college, but Adam had meant what he said about adoption, and when he got something into his head, it was hard to get it out.

“So I’m thinking,” Adam began, eyes on the laptop in his hands as he walked into the living room. He looked down to see Opal lying sprawled on the rug with a book of Shel Silverstein poems and Chainsaw pecking at her wet hair. He was glad to see her out of the bath after deciding to play with the lambs that afternoon and tripping headfirst into a pile of mud. “Oh, hey Opal,” Adam said, bumping her hip with his socked toe. She grunted in response and lowered the book just enough to stick out her tongue. “Charming as always, anyway, Ronan, I have the short list of the short list.”

Ronan was on the couch, relaxing in much the same fashion as his adopted daughter, head pillowed on the armrest and legs haphazardly taking up the rest of the cushions. Adam judged the available room to sit, before climbing over Ronan and perching on the solid back of the couch, feet resting gently on his stomach.

Ronan grunted as he was forced to shift a bit with Adam’s presence, dropping the Stephen King novel he was reading onto the ground face-down to save his place.

“Didn’t I tell you to just pick one?” he sighed, amused, before bumping his knuckles against Adam’s shin.

Adam and Ronan were never going to have a very public relationship, neither of them had any patience for loud, unnecessary displays of affection. What often slipped under the radar, though, was the constant physical reassurances they gave each other: brushing their arms together, walking a little too close, knocking their feet together under restaurant tables. It was all very innocuous, and it all made Adam feel a little warm.

“I did just pick one,” Adam said. He accepted that he was slipping off the back cushion, and allowed himself to fall in the canyon between Ronan’s side and the couch back, his legs coming to spill across the top of Ronan’s body.

“Well then,” Ronan said, smiling at the new contact, reaching his hands forward to tug the laptop out of Adam’s grip. Ronan looked at the webpage, neck craned in what must have been an uncomfortable position, and forced Adam to wait patiently.

Adam watched Ronan’s expression closely, even though he knew that Ronan had mastered the art of the poker face a long time ago.

The gentle sound of Irish music drifting out of some unidentified speaker was the only other noise in the room when Ronan finally said, “Okay.”

Adam thought that he misheard. “Did you say okay?”

“Yes, idiot, obviously,” Ronan relented, his voice softening into a smile as Adam grabbed his arm wildly.

“I still did not expect that, alright,” Adam said, grabbing the computer back from Ronan. “Let’s get a dog then.”

“Opal,” Ronan said, one of his hands sneaking over to wrap itself around Adam’s forearm comfortingly, as Adam scrambled to find the right person to email. “How do you feel about dogs?”

Opal once again put down her book and stared intently at Ronan. She considered for a moment before saying “I think I like them.”

“Great news,” Ronan said, shaking his head with a slight grin, “This will go flawlessly, then.”

“Just don’t name her anything like, Blowtorch, or whatever,” Adam said, smirking at Ronan and hitting send on his email.

 

 

Bear ends up being the perfect dog, and Adam wasn’t biased.

“Hey.” Opal called across the lawn. “Bear!” It was the only warning she gave before bolting, running as fast as her legs could take her out into the field. Bear’s black pointed ears perked up for half a second before she caught onto the game and lept up to give chase, earning Chainsaw’s crow of disapproval and Ronan’s snort of amusement.

“They’re never going to get tired of that,” Ronan said, bringing two fresh cups of brewed iced tea out onto the porch. Adam smiled gratefully when Ronan handed him one and took a deep sip, the shocking cold a refreshing contrast to the sticky Virgina sun.

“I hope not, we need to keep them both entertained for a long while,” Adam replied, smiling as the black German Shepard had to abruptly about face, digging her paws into the ground to compensate for Opal’s turning radius.

From the arm of Adam’s chair, Chainsaw clicked her beak and eyed Adam’s tea meaningfully. With a sigh he fished out an ice cube to feed her and grinned as she cooed in appreciation.

“I should never have doubted you,” Ronan admitted, as Opal came stumbling back up the stairs to hide behind Adam’s chair, stifling her giggles behind a fist.

Adam sent Ronan a smug grin as Bear barreled behind, nails clicking on the hardwood of the porch. She found Opal easily and set to work licking her fingers clean in victory. Adam reached over to scratch Bear behind the ear, a move that had the dog turning her head in his direction, dropping her chin on his knee and looking up with big amber eyes.

“Hey baby girl,” Adam said, gently, using both hands to grab the sides of her face and scratch under her chin. With a lolling smile, Bear’s tongue hung heavy out of the side of her mouth, chest panting like a steam train.

“Ugh,” Ronan said, drawing the their attention. “This is cute, I hate it.”

“Huh,” Adam considered, before smiling bright. “Bear, go to Ronan,” he said, pointing to where Ronan was standing, leaning against the porch railing.

At the age of seven months Bear was a quick study. Ronan delegated all the training to Adam, but he alway ended up watching and being drafted as an unwilling participant. .

Happily Bear sprung to standing and trotted over to Ronan, stopping right in front of him to nudge his leg plaintively for attention.

“This is adorable too,” Ronan complained, but rubbed the top of her head anyway. “I don’t see how it solved anything.”

“Just accept it and move on,” Adam said, shrugging. “Also are we going to Petsmart or...?”

“Yes!” Opal cried, and scrambled from her spot behind Adam’s chair. “We are!”

Adam smiled and scrunched his nose at Opal, who giggled and mimicked the gesture.

“Fine, Jesus,” Ronan said. “Family time at Petsmart then.” He pushed off of the railing and patted down his pockets. Adam knew what he was missing.

“Keys are in the bowl in the kitchen,” Adam said, standing up and brushing himself off. “We’ll be in the truck.”

With a whistle he collected Opal and Bear and then herded the more human of the two into the backseat. When it came to Bear, she had taken quite a shining to the truck bed, but would never be big enough to get in on her own. Patiently she waited by the back until Adam walked around and picked her up, his arms around her chest and back legs. He clipped on her leash that was attached to a cross teather, and she settled against the back of the cab, allowing Opal to scratch her through the small window looking out from the backseat.

Adam heaved the tailgate closed and walked around to his spot in the passenger seat. Ronan appeared by the house door and grabbed Chainsaw with two hands from where she was loitering by the iced tea. He locked the door behind him, walked to the truck and literally hopped in.

“You take the bird,” he said, dumping her in Adam’s lap. Both Adam and Chainsaw squaked at his treatment of the raven, but the bird got over it quicker and was sated by Adam combing his fingers through her plumage.

“Thanks,” Adam muttered, looking in the rearview mirror to make sure everyone was ready.

Ronan caught his eyes in the mirror, softly smiling at the picture they all made. “Nah,” he replied, “thank you.”

* * *

 

Adam patted one of the brown dairy cows on the head before he closed up the barn for the night, all of the mangers full of hay and the secondary lights glowing dimly. Bear was lying in wait as he latched the wooden door and she looked up at him as he slid the bolt closed, her head in between her paws and brown eyes wide and curious. Or, at least, Adam liked to imagine so.

“C’mon girl,” He said, patting his leg and causing her to leap up and fall in next to him.

She bumped her head playfully against his thigh as they walked past the pastures, her tongue hanging out of her mouth happily. Adam looked up ahead to the farmhouse and could see Ronan’s silhouette through the open windows, moving through the living room in what was probably a half assed attempt to clean up the place.

Adam knew, from experience, that it wouldn’t work.

Next to him Bear started bouncing. “Jesus, dog, what is it?” Adam groaned, smiling at her seemingly limitless energy. Bear just dropped into a bow and woofed with something that sounded like a challenge.

“Oh you’re on,” Adam said, being at that point very used to conversing with animals, before he set off in a sprint towards the porch.

The sun had just set and the air was a bit cool on his skin, rushing by him as he was quickly outpaced by Bear. Adam couldn’t help but laugh, the long grass brushing his exposed ankles as he took a shortcut towards the house. Sometimes, it was hard to even conceptualize how he got so lucky.

Bear lept over the three steps up the porch and Adam was close behind, his sneakers light on the wood planks and silent compared to Bear’s claws. Panting but with a big smile on his face, Adam swung open the screen door and ruffled the fur on Bear’s head.

The both of them cut into the kitchen, where Opal was sitting on the counter, eating an apple the wrong way. Adam casually plucked it out of her hands and turned it around so she could eat the actual flesh of the fruit, and not just the stem.

She scowled at him silently, but took a bite anyway.

“What are we doing tonight?” He asked her, turning around to fill up a glass of water at the sink and then dump it into Bear’s dish.

“Don’t know,” she said, mouth full. She took another bite, chewed loudly, ignoring Adam’s unimpressed eyebrow raise.

He sighed and filled up the glass again before taking a long sip. “Ronan?” He called, wiping at his mouth and leaning against the counter.

Ronan appeared at the other door, hands full of precariously balanced CDs but looking unconcerned about it altogether. “Yeah?”

“Anything up tonight?” Adam asked, watching as Ronan shoved all the CDs with a clatter into the dining room cabinet, alongside their growing collection of physical music. The bottom shelf was dedicated to Adam’s records, while the top was an interesting mix of Ronan’s favorite CDs--late 2000s rap, 80s rock, electro, celtic folk, and the Dixie Chicks. One day, Adam promised himself, Ronan would see the light, but for now he declared Adam’s music taste “emo hipster shit and old people jams.”

It was unfortunately accurate.

“Eh, maybe, your phone starting going crazy a while ago and it looks like Gansey, Blue, _and_ Cheng are trying to get in touch.” Ronan offered, over his shoulder, as he battled with a traitorous row of plastic cases. “Didn’t tell me you were suddenly popular.”

“If I’d have known I wouldn’t have come back here to hang out with you,” Adam replied, wandering into the office where they charged all their devices. Unplugging his phone he saw that he did indeed have an unusual amount of notification from their friends. Scrolling through, he saw that they all had something to do with a party.

“Huh.”

 

**_Blue Today 7:13 pm_ **

_Hey so apparently the rowing team had Gansey-induced separation anxiety paired with amnesia bc they just invited him to a blow out party at one of their houses_

_And the king (obvi) doth request that he make an appearance con yo_

_Y no quiero_

_So long story short can u go with me pls u can bring ur guard dog (the human one) i wont complain 2 much_

**_Today 8:00_ **

_Cheng, when questioned about the validity of the party “oh yeah that? Knew about it for weeks LOL”_

_He then proceeded to offer to buy me a lily pulitzer outfit to “maintain appearances” and “blend in”_

_Help me_

_I don’t think i can do this_

_But gansey would pout so hard_

_Why am i such a selfless woman_

**_Adam Today 8:40 pm_ **

**Yet you drag me into this?**

_Adam!_

**I think I’m being the selfless one here**

_I will pay you back somehow_

_I can sew u a real nice blanket it’d be v cute_

_Please just imagine me surrounded by raven boys someone might die_

**I can imagine the morning headlines**

**Local high school boy found dead in mansion, only clues are empty yogurt containers and assorted scraps of fabric**

_Eerily accurate_

_U ARE a psychic adam_

_Also stop stalling go ask ronan_

_Bat ur eyelashes_

_Show a little bit of ankle_

_#scandalous_

 

Adam snorted and turned the screen off, tucking his phone into his back pocket. Blue was kinda right, he was stalling. In all reality, it was a bit hard to logic why he wanted to go to this party. Like Blue, being surrounded by Raven Boys was being reminded of how he never fit into their exclusive club of wealth and privilege. But maybe he didn’t have to be one of them. It was all just a memory now, the impression of an ancient ache of shame and envy.

Now, though, the twisting in his gut was just a reflex borne of muscle memory, of instinctual anxiety. It was hollow, unfueled, insubstantial. His envy wasn’t for the vacations in the Hamptons, afternoons at the country club, glossy sports cars, designer sweatshirts--it never was. Those things never compelled him, never made him catch his breath or stay up all night dreaming with his eyes open.

No, what he wanted, all this time, was just to be like Ronan. He wanted to fill a room, to own something--a sense of self maybe. To evolve into a real human, a 3d living breathing person, not a shade of one just going through the motions.

Ronan had taken Adam’s spot at the kitchen counter, and was eating an apple opposite Opal, staring her down like they were in some sort of competition--Adam didn’t put it past either of them. He settled himself next to Ronan and hopped up to sit on the counter, the side of his knee pressed against Ronan’s hip.

Adam had spent about two month sleeping in the same bed as Ronan, singing along with his music, kissing his scars. He knew now that his past didn’t define his present. Confidence wasn’t something that he could earn, it wasn’t a luxury. Adam was proving to himself that he was worth the space he occupied, he was worth the affection offered to him, he was worth being known.

And it was Ronan, of all people, who knew him the best.

“So, there’s a party,” Adam said, bumping his foot against Ronan’s knee.

“A Cheng party?” Ronan asked, taking another loud bite and breaking his stare with Opal to turn his eyes on Adam.

“Nah,” Adam said, feigning causality, “An Aglionby rowing party actually.”

Ronan visibly paused. “Well,” he replied, insubstantially. Adam knew under any other circumstance Ronan would outright say no, but he refrained, and Adam could tell it was for his sake.

“Blue is apparently being dragged along by Henry and Gansey,” Adam continued, stealing the apple away from Ronan to take a quick bite. As he chewed Ronan watched him carefully, staying quiet until Adam got to his point. “So I thought we could possibly make an appearance, for old times sake, crash a rager, take pictures of Blue cursing out some Raven Boys, steal something, disappear into the night.”

Ronan smirked, “I’ve created a monster.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, stealing his apple back and taking a final bite. “I’ll go to your stupid party.”

 

 

Ronan shimmied into some impressively tight jeans, a black tee shirt, and his leather jacket. Adam watched, impressed, as Ronan shoved his wallet and a flask into the back pocket despite the squeeze.

“I’m guessing that I’m driving?” Adam said from where he was sitting on the bed. He inspected the now half empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand, the liquor sacrificed to the flask that Noah had bought and decorated with skull stickers.

“Yeah,” Ronan said, rifling through the closet. “Also here.” From over his shoulder he tossed Adam a red threadbare tee shirt that he didn’t know he left there, and a bomber jacket.

“Wow, pushy,” Adam snorted, peeling off his shirt for the other one, because he happily admitted that Ronan had far more clothing sense than he ever would.

The bedroom was lit by a solitary lamp, sitting on the bedside table, that threw the floor into complete darkness but illuminated the wooden dresser, the mirror hanging over the closet door, the side of Ronan’s face. Adam peeled out of his sneakers and pushed them under the bed before setting off to find a pair of Ronan’s boots that he could steal. He couldn’t imagine showing up at a Raven boy’s house in a pair of shoes he reserved for the barn.

“I’m taking these,” he said, waving a pair of lace-up Dr. Martens he found abandoned in the corner of the room.

“Good,” Ronan said, with a smile, shamelessly looking Adam up and down.

“Shut up,” Adam said, flushing under Ronan’s appreciative gaze. Ronan’s grin grew until it crinkled the corners of his eyes, and Adam couldn’t help but mirror the look.  

“Nah,” Ronan said and when Adam sat back down on the corner of his bed he moved to stand in between his legs. Grabbing his chin, Ronan tilted Adam’s face up for a quick kiss, a gentle press of lips together. “I’m probably going to kiss you tonight.”

Adam grinned, slipped his feet into the boots, “Good.”

“A lot, probably, and in front of other people,” Ronan continued, watching Adam’s face carefully, his blue eyes cautious in the shadows.

“Hey,” Adam said, reaching up to peck Ronan on the lips again. “I’m cool with it. I know what a sloppy drunk you are.” Ronan scoffed and tried to look offended, but couldn’t exactly deny the accusation. “I’m not going to hide from anyone, I’m not going to answer to any of their expectations.”

It was true enough, he was still anxious at the idea of coming out to anyone, much less the rich heteronormative high school boys he tried so desperately to fit into for four years. It was inevitable, but it still sent his stomach twisting. At least he knew, logically, that their opinions of him--good or bad--didn’t have to define him.

“Alright,” Ronan said. “But if I get too pushy or too much don’t hesitate, yeah?”

“Yes, Ronan,” Adam drawled, lacing up his boots and looking up at Ronan through his eyelashes.

They made their way downstairs to find Opal using Bear as a pillow, her eyes fixed on the nature documentary playing on Animal Planet.

“Alright,” Ronan said, clapping his hands together and stepping right in front of the screen. “We’re headed out for a couple hours, if anything happens, you call us. Bear will protect you, there’s also the dream katana in the office. No wandering, you stay in the house. You got it?”

Opal huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes, it was the same speech she always got. “Yes, get out of my way.”

“Brat,” Ronan scoffed, but leaned down to pat her head on his way out.

“Bye Opal, be good, don’t let Bear eat from the garbage,” Adam called, as Ronan hustled him out the door. She gave him a halfhearted wave over her shoulder, but at the same time a lion took down a gazelle on screen so she had more interesting things to attend to.

The two of them padded out to the BMW in the golden light of the porch and the balmy summer night wind. It was almost too warm to be wearing a jacket, and a thin blanket of humidity swaddled the night, causing sweat to prickle on Adam’s neck.

“Jesus it’s gross out here,” Ronan huffed, tossing his leather jacket into the backseat. As soon as Adam slammed the driver door shut and the interior lights faded to black, Ronan had his flask in hand.

“How much alcohol am I going to need to be anywhere near interacting with these idiots?” Ronan asked, and Adam glanced over to see him with one eye closed, peering down the neck, attempting to gauge how much he had left.

“That’s no way to talk about Gansey and Cheng,” Adam joked, starting down their long driveway, the headlights a shock of light on the seemingly limitless dark landscape.

Ronan groaned and ended up taking a long pull of whiskey, his face scrunching up afterwards and revealing that he wasn’t as hardcore as he’d like everyone to believe. With a snort Adam turned his eyes back on the road and let Ronan fiddle with the radio, turning it to whatever alternate dream station the BMW would always inexplicably settle on.

Adam liked nights like these, with Ronan and the darkness. He had once heard that the most magic of things were created in the dark, in the pauses, in the silences between one thought and the next. He liked to think it was applicable, that he and Ronan were so steady because they never fought to fill space, they settled into the calm of possibility.

The drinking was also not a drawback, like Adam had thought a year ago, finding Ronan belligerent and drunk, calling Gansey, planning around the carelessness of one boy. Ronan wasn’t like that anymore, the drinking wasn’t as reckless as it had been, instead Adam imagined it as a penance of some sort. Fucking himself up a bit to balance out all the chaos he’d caused. It made sense to Ronan, and Adam had enough idiosyncrasies to understand the reason, no matter how twisted.

With another glance at the GPS on his phone, Adam felt his stomach clench again, and without thinking he held a hand out to Ronan.

Ronan didn’t question it, he just met Adam halfway.

 

 

“What the _fuck,”_ Adam heard when he finally emerged from the car, in front of Benjamin Greenwald’s three story french-style mansion. Looking over he saw what appeared to be an intoxicated twelve-year-old stumble into a bush. “Is that _Lynch’s car?_ ” The Vineyard-Vines-clad boy hollered behind himself, potentially in the direction of the house.

“Huh,” Adam considered as what had to be a freshman proceeded to collapse against the side of the house. “When did everyone start looking so young?”

Ronan stepped around the BMW and looked at the boy, eyebrows flat, “Probably when you started getting so old, c’mon Parrish let’s go have fun.”

It was definitely the least enthusiastic Adam had ever heard his voice. Adam came to the crashing realization that this was going to be a very interesting night.

Adam had texted Blue as soon as they arrived, so he was unsurprised to see her at the front door not a few seconds later.

“Adam!” She cried, her voice relieved. She waved with her hand not currently occupied with a red solo cup. “And Satan himself.”

Ronan rolled his eyes but started to smile, regardless. Adam could understand, she was a refreshing reality in what appeared to be a complete shit show.

The mansion, Adam could admit, was impressive. As he and Ronan navigated around the luxury cars parked on the gravel driveway, Adam couldn’t help but gaze up admiringly at the brick facade, the pristine hedges, even the stupid spotlights strategically illuminating the entryway. This, he thought, was wealth--and some of the most ostentatious he’d ever seen.  And that was saying something, he was a Raven Boy, at one point anyway.  
“This place is hideous,” Ronan hissed, as they narrowly dodged a couple giggling and stumbling, hand in hand. “Also this song sucks.”

“I’m sure you can educate them later on the merits of good electro, they’ll be honored to learn from you.” Adam snorted as they finally joined Blue on the steps.

“Save me,” Blue interjected as soon as they were in earshot, yelling over the base rumbling underfoot and clumsily reaching forward to loop their arms together. “Cheng is an enabler and now Gansey is earnestly playing a game of beer pong and I don’t think I can handle him losing, he’ll be heartbroken.”

“Hello to you to,” Ronan muttered, but Adam could see that he was on the defense, seemingly shielding Blue with his body and looking unfavorably at the dark and crowded rooms they passed. Adam was inspecting them with more curiosity. This was the first “party”--as in stereotypical high school ragers depicted in only the best of 90s coming-of-age movies. It was sweatier than he expected, he was glad that he ditched the jacket in the car alongside Ronan’s.

“Let’s go check in on him, then,” Adam said, raising his voice as they delved deeper into the crush of people.

“He’s downstairs, c’mon, this way,” Blue ducked out of her hold on them, and pushed her way through the hallway to a side door. Ronan sighed but forged ahead, leaving Adam struggling to keep up.

Once they were on the stairs Ronan stop short, turning around and sending Adam crashing into his chest. Ronan threw his hands up to grab protectively at Adam’s wrists, before bending down to whisper in his ear. “Are you still good?”

Adam nodded and smiled at Ronan, “Sure. I mean, what’s another adventure, yeah?”

 

It was easy for Adam to see how the party had originated as a rowing event, but it had obviously derailed half an hour in and was now crowded with people who, Blue assured Adam, were definitely public school kids.

“Do you see that girl,” Blue growled, shamelessly pointing at a tall brunette with a tiny pair of shorts in the corner, swaying to the music with a couple friends. “She once said she liked my dress, y’know, the mustardy one?” When Adam nodded placatingly, she barreled on. “And _then_ I heard her saying to her friends that not even _Walmart_ would sell something that ugly!”

Adam tried not to laugh as Blue, definitely edging her way into drunk, flailed her arms so wildly that her drink spilled over.

“God,” Adam said, smiling down at Blue. “What a bitch.”

“Damn straight,” She grumbled, crossing her arms and leaning against the basement wall heavily. Adam had to admire her, an isolated act of defiance in a sea of writhing teenage hormones. She was wearing a pair of army green overalls cut off into shorts and patched with angry feminist badges, worn proudly and boldly despite her circumstances. “Should I fight her?”

“No,” Adam said, immediately, although a part of him was unduly curious. “Don’t do that.”

Blue, though, wasn’t listening. “At least I’ll give her a stern talking to about...wealth disparity or something. The merits of shopping at Walmart. Whatever, I’ll bullshit it as I go.”

And right as Adam was trying to think up a perfect distraction from what was inevitably going to become a murderous rampage, salvation came in the form of none other than Richard Campbell Gansey III.

“Jane! I’m back! I brought you provisions so you don’t waste away,” Gansey proclaimed, blue eyes bright and wildly intoxicated. He gamely put a new solo cup into Blue’s empty hand.

“Thanks Dick,” Blue said, rolling her eyes but gulping it down anyway.

From behind Gansey, Ronan appeared once more, a drink in hand and his eyes far more hooded than before. Adam immediately knew that he was to blame for Gansey’s current state.

“Hey,” Ronan said, as he came crashing next to Adam, slumping his side against the wall for support. “How are ya?”

“Good,” Adam replied, his smile growing soft as he reached out to steady Ronan’s swaying. “What mischief did you get into without my supervision?”

“Y’know,” He replied, leaning forward clumsily so Adam could hear him better. “Daring Gansey to take shots, glaring at that asshole Charles from Societies, trying to steal the tracklist from the DJ. Really just doing my civic duty.”

“Mhm,” Adam hummed, considering the way Ronan’s eyes seemed to be dancing, bright and reckless in the pink and blue lights flashing from the DJ booth. “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?”

Ronan raised his eyebrow lazily, in a rendition of surprise, but when Adam snatched his drink and downed the rest of it--raspberry vodka and all--he broke out into a smile.

“Getting wild on me, Parrish?”

“Try and keep up, Lynch,” Adam said, with a smirk. Turning to where Blue and Gansey were having a really interesting, really drunk conversation, he grabbed their attention, “Hey we’re out, don’t fight anyone, Blue.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Ronan called over the music as he slowly backed into the crowd, his hands wrapped around Adam’s wrists to drag him along. “Fight everyone, Blue, they all deserve it.”

Adam heard a faint, “Yeah man!” before he was consumed by the loud rattling of the music pouring from the speakers.

“Hey,” Ronan said, when they were somewhere in the middle of the sea of people, pulling Adam close to his body and leaning down until he was the only thing in Adam’s vision. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, leaning closer so his lips brushed Ronan’s jaw. “Real good.”

And Adam didn’t know if it was the small shot of alcohol, rushing through his low tolerance and straight to his brain, or the dizzying effect of feeling the music in both of his ears, or even the anonymity and freedom afforded in a dark party, but he was good. Really good.

Throwing his arms over Ronan’s shoulders, Adam brought their bodies closer until their thighs crashed together and their hips slotted into place and their only bubble of air was the gap between their mouths. With a warm chuckle, Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist, warm against the narrowness of his hips.

They didn’t dance so much as mull and brew and sway, bubbling with a tense energy that sent Adam’s fingertips buzzing, unsatisfied by simply hanging there. With intent Adam ran his hands over the prickly soft back of Ronan’s head, giving into the gravity and pressing their lips together. It lingered, and it sparked, and Adam felt himself grow hot.

“Let’s get out of here,” Adam said, against Ronan’s mouth as they brushed together, noncommittal.

“But I haven’t gotten that dance yet, Parrish,” Ronan said, his mouth curving into a smile. “Didn’t you promise me a dance?”

“Promise is a strong word,” Adam replied, but didn’t fight when Ronan turned Adam around in his hands, forcing him to dislodge his hold on Ronan’s shoulders.

Now Ronan’s hands relocated to hold Adam’s hips, anchoring him flat against Ronan’s chest, his ass pressed into Ronan’s crotch in a way that made him flush and look around to make sure no one was watching. Somehow, miraculously, no one was. There enough people pressed against all their sides but the crowd was drunkenly self obsessed, completely blind to Ronan and Adam. .

“Nah,” Ronan said, mouth tucked near Adam’s hearing ear, breath warm against his cheek. “I think promise is just strong enough.”

Adam rolled his head back to rest it against Ronan’s shoulder, breathing out a laugh that reverberated through Ronan’s chest and had his hands tightening, instinctively, around Adam’s waist, like he wanted to hold that sound against him forever. It was enough that when Ronan started to rock, his shoulders and hips moving to the base underfoot, Adam allowed himself to be pulled along. Body against body they moved together achingly purposeful, when Ronan rolled his hips Adam pressed back against him, when Adam closed his eyes against the flashing lights Ronan pressed a wet kiss against his jaw.

Adam moved his hands down to overlap Ronan’s, leaning further into his embrace and accepting how shamelessly comfortable it felt. It didn’t matter what everyone else thought of them, of this, and it didn’t matter that he was hopeless at dancing. All that mattered was that they were making fools out of themselves together.

After a couple of songs, Adam leaned back so he was closer to Ronan’s ear, “What would I have to do to get you out of here in the next ten minutes?”

Ronan thought for a minute, “If you can steal a bottle of something that’s not strawberry flavored I think I could be convinced.”

Adam narrowed his eyes to focus on the table full of drinks, unprotected on the other side of the basement.

“Well then, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Adam ducked out of his hands, and turned around to shoot Ronan a sharp smile, just refraining from winking.

Adam could pretend like he didn’t like Ronan’s drinking, but that felt fake. He wasn’t tempted to participate, personally, but he didn’t think anyone with a dangerously alcoholic parent really found it desirable. He could drink in small increments, sure, he liked the burn and the warmth in his stomach, but anything past three shots was too much. One thing Adam could understand, though, was the possibility of escape. The promise of blurring out the world for a minute, making it smaller, conquerable, shortened to just that moment, was enough to make Adam sympathetic to Ronan’s habits.

“Hey,” Adam said, casually, to a girl with short, blond hair and a shorter black dress, standing by the card table set up in the darkest corner of the basement. She eyed him suspiciously, but shrugged when she realized that Adam posed no threat.

Adam passed his eyes over the clear glass bottles lining the table, interspersed with overturned red solo cups and crushed beer cans. He immediately dismissed the ones with grapefruit on the front and instead honed in on the bottle of Jack.

As he reached out to make a grab for it, as innocuously as possible, he heard a very familiar voice over his shoulder.

“Lizzy? What are you doing with...Parrish?”

Shit.

Adam froze, his hand around the neck of the bottle. He decisively snatched the whiskey, casually acting as if he had any right to, before turning around to face none other than Gabe Broner.

“Broner,” Adam said, waving with the hand still holding the bottle. “How’re you?”

The issue with Gabe was that he was attractive, in an obnoxiously unselfconscious way. High cheekbones and dark skin and tousled dark black hair, he offered Adam a smile while his green eyes looked a bit surprised to see him there.

“Good, good,” Gabe replied, absently, eyes fixed on Adam’s face with a confused crinkle in between his eyebrows. The girl beside him looked equally confused as to why Adam was such a big source of concern for the boy, and seemed a little put out about it altogether.

“Alright well I was just headed out-” Adam began, trying to sneak away.

“Was that you and Lynch I just saw out there?” Gabe asked, suddenly, a blatant non sequitur. “I thought it was just a trick of the lights.”

With a grin, Adam shook his head and felt his entire body start to blush, “Nah, that was us.”

“Are you-”

“Most likely,” Adam offered, before Gabe could finish that thought. “See ya around.”

Without looking back Adam left the two of them behind, weaving his way through the crowd, pilfered drink in hand. He felt a little reckless, soberly destructive, a grin growing on his face.

He found Ronan lingering near the stairs, glaring into the crowd, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Let’s go,” Adam said as he approached.

Ronan grinned wickedly and laughed as he took the bottle Adam waved at him, “Jesus, Parrish, way to treat a lady.”

“Anything for my number one girl,” Adam offered, pushing Ronan towards the stairs. “Now let’s go before someone realizes that we’re leaving with this thing and decides to fight for it’s honor.”

Adam stayed close enough to Ronan that he could keep a hand on his lower back, the warmth radiating off Ronan more welcome than the press of sweaty bodies downstairs. Carelessly he slipped a hand into the back pocket of Ronan’s black jeans, hovering close behind as Ronan parted the crowd and pushed towards the front door.

As soon as they got back out to the gravel driveway, Adam pulled his phone out and saw that they had been there for two hours. He wasn’t quite sure how all that time passed, but he was definitely affected by it--his head was dizzy, his ear rang, there was an imprint of the flashing lights seared into his eyelids every time he blinked.

He hadn’t had nearly enough alcohol, but he imagined that he felt a little tipsy.

Taking a deep breath of the humid air, Adam threw himself against the side of the car, and smiled lazily when Ronan turned a more predatory look his way. Carefully, Adam reached out, latched his hands in Ronan’s shirt, and tugged him forward. Less than carefully, Ronan dropped the bottle of whiskey on the roof of the car as he slammed into Adam, his body making solid contact and pushing the air out of Adam’s lungs.

“Whoops,” Ronan muttered, but action was catalyzed, potential turned kinetic, and his lips followed the path of his body--crashing towards Adam.

With a hum, Adam’s hands came around to clutch at the small of Ronan’s back, holding his warm body close, pressed together irresponsibly. The kiss was sloppy, wet, a bit too heady for public, but perfect for clandestine makeouts at midnight. Ronan was making a noise somewhere between a moan and a hum, pressing Adam against the car and slipping his tongue into his mouth, hotly licking the inside of Adam’s mouth.

It was a shameless claiming, really, stealing all of Adam’s breath and any of his complaints. He felt anchored, desired, like he could get off in front of Greenwald’s mansion in plain sight.

A part of Adam realized he had to take control, as Ronan’s hands wound downwards to clutch at his waist, hips hitching up towards the friction Adam’s thigh offered.

Adam gasped into Ronan’s mouth, clawed at his neck, felt the solid immobility of the metal car against his back.

He wanted to see how far they could go.

But that was inconsiderate, improper, and definitely inappropriate, despite how much he knew that even sober Ronan would be completely on board.

“Ronan,” Adam tried, pulling away enough to mumble against Ronan’s lips.

Disregarding his name, Ronan bit at Adam’s bottom lip, catching it for a moment and hitching his hips, more purposeful, hands going to Adam’s ass.

With an internal sigh and a slight smirk, Adam pulled far enough away to switch their positions, rolling so that Ronan was thrown against the car, pressed tight against it by Adam’s body. He could tell that Ronan took this as encouragement, as he threw his arms around Adam’s shoulders and went to kiss his neck.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” Adam said, putting his hands to Ronan’s shoulders to push him back. “I’m not exactly into defiling you in front of all of our peers and quite a few underage high schoolers.”

“Don’t act like they’re the innocents in this,” Ronan shrugged, devil-may-care, stretching languidly to the curve of the passenger door. He hooked his fingers into the neck of Adam’s tee shirt and tugged him in closer, eyelashes sweeping across the tops of his cheekbones as he blinked heavily, purposefully.

With a snort Adam took a step back and crossed his arms. “Like you’re any better?”

Ronan smirked dangerously at Adam’s words and pushed himself off the car. As Ronan turned his back to make a grab for the door handle, Adam, feeling vindictive, surged forward. With a gasp Ronan found himself pressed, this time chest first, against the car, Adam’s mouth at his neck.

“Alright, Parrish,” Ronan gasped on a laugh as Adam bit down, hard, at the column of muscle at his nape.

Adam wasn’t one be physically demanding, not until Ronan told him that he was partial to being pushed around. Plastering himself against Ronan’s back, Adam could hear the hitch in Ronan’s breath and admitted that he was partial to it too. Sometimes he needed to take control, and sometimes Ronan needed to be reminded that he didn’t always have to make the calls--they overlapped easily like that.

“You’re a real asshole, Lynch,” Adam said, grabbing Ronan’s jaw with his free hand to guide his head sideways, speaking against his cheek and pressing a kiss there afterwards.

Realizing that he was probably pushing it, Adam stepped back once again to grin at Ronan’s flushed face.

“Jesus,” Ronan grunted, scrunching his nose against Adam’s knowingly raised eyebrow and matching blush, growing on his freckled cheekbones. “Guess I learned from the best, you absolute dick.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam said, making his way to the driver’s side, pausing a moment to smile leisurely at Ronan over the hood. “You know what they say, the lady doth protest…”

With an eyeroll and audible snarl, Ronan shoved himself into his seat and shut the door of the BMW pointedly.

Adam couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

 

Adam took Ronan Lynch’s virginity on a Thursday night in late July when he felt like his skin was going to melt off from more than just the heat. He didn’t like thinking of it as “taking”, per say. Ronan joked once, when the topic came up, that it was more of an exchanging of virginities, really.

It used to be weird for Adam to consider sex, it sounded like a luxury he couldn’t afford. It was too vulnerable, taking all his clothes off and admitting desire sounded like the most uncomfortable thing. That’s why Adam was so surprised when he couldn’t stop thinking about Ronan’s mouth.

It was to the point of near distraction really, and that’s what really pushed them over the edge.

Adam was excellent at self control, but Ronan was his blind spot.

“C’mon,” Ronan moaned, from where he was sprawled underneath Adam, hands thrown above his head, shirt somewhere on the floor, head rolled back and neck arched as Adam kissed the spot under his jaw. “Fuck me, Parrish.”

He said it like a demand, not an exclamation.

“What?” Adam said, surprised, pulling his mouth away but staying hovered over Ronan’s lax body.  

Ronan had the impressive ability of looking thoroughly debauched and judgmental at the same time. “You heard me.”

“For Christ’s sake,” Adam snorted, leaning back so that he was seated on Ronan’s thighs. As Ronan leveled himself onto his elbows to look into Adam’s eyes, the flat of his abs contracted to the point of distraction. “What happened to the whole ‘give you a warning’ thing?”

Ronan shrugged and bit his lip, “This whole week has sorta been a warning, did you not read the signs?”

“Are you trying to imply that the universe has been giving us signs that we should have sex and you’ve been picking up on them and are using that as a base of decision-making?”

“Psh,” Ronan waved off Adam’s statement, rolling his eyes. “Really, with all your dramatics? No, Parrish, that’s not what I meant. It’s just we’ve been building up to something here, y’know?”

Ronan gestured between the two of them and Adam blushed at the memory of how uncommonly clingy they had both been that week. It wasn’t anything loud, but Adam and Ronan couldn’t help but start something whenever they were left alone together, and that meant that one night they started to make out on the living room couch before remembering that Opal was literally just one room over. Even Blue had said they were being a bit nicer to each other than normal.

“Alright I’ll allow that, but it doesn’t have to be sex or whatever,” Adam shrugged, playing at casual although his heart was starting to race a bit when the fact that Ronan was _serious_ started to kick in. “I can give you,” Adam blushed, paused, before barreling through the sentence. “Like an attempt at a really good blowjob or something if you’re not ready.”

Adam would not call himself good at blowjobs under any circumstances, but for Ronan he was willing to try.

Ronan’s teeth reflected back the bedside light when he grinned, large and amused. “What a selfless idea, but I wanna do this.” When Adam didn’t look entirely convinced, Ronan sat up until they were closer together, faces inches away, Ronan’s blue eyes honest to a fault. “I feel safe right now, Adam. I’m not scared, I’m not intimidated. I _want_ you.”

And there goes Adam’s self control.

“Fine,” he said, slowly releasing a breath of air. Adam felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin, the electricity he felt staring into Ronan’s eyes did nothing to help. With gentle hands, Adam pushed Ronan down to lay flat against the bed, his gaze flickering over every sharp edge and corner of Ronan’s face.

A smile pulled at the corners of Ronan’s lips and he wrapped his hands around the small of Adam’s back, pulling him down to lay flat against Ronan’s body.

“C’mon, Parrish,” Ronan cooed, nipping at Adam’s jaw, tongue peeking out to lick along the sharp edge of the bone. “Do you not like me anymore?”

Adam was a hesitant creature by nature, but he was also debilitatingly proud, if Ronan was offering a challenge then he wasn’t about to back down.

“So what if I do?” Adam replied, eyebrow raised, before diving down to seal their lips in another kiss, this one more urgent, like they were trying to prove something.

Moaning with pleasure, Ronan opened his mouth and allowed Adam in deeper, curling their tongues together in something like shamelessness, like desperation.

Adam held Ronan’s wrists over his head and felt him strain against the pressure, a gasp between their lips as they fought for breath. Ronan’s prerogative in any situation was to see how far he could get, how far could he push things before Adam caught on. He was never really as subtle as he thought, and Adam knew how he liked to be held down.

Stripping off their clothes, Adam allowed himself a moment to drink in all of Ronan’s exposed skin, the pale smoothness of it, before returning to his position, curled over him, lips and chests and hips and legs pressed together.

This, Adam thought as he bracketed his arms around Ronan’s head like a halo, was what his body was made for. He was wrangling a storm, subduing lightning, taking the wildness of Ronan between his thighs and kissing him into submission. Ronan would struggle, occasionally, against the hold Adam had on his body, the all-encompassing warmth of his touch, but Adam knew the last thing he wanted was to break free.

Slowly Adam unbuttoned Ronan’s pants, pulled them down around his ankles without fanfare, wrestled his boxers off, until he was pale and sharp and greedy, gasping for breath underneath him.

“Adam,” Ronan growled, feral, a flush rising on his cheekbones, running down his neck, alighting on the high planes of his collarbones.

If Ronan was a natural disaster, Adam was the tree that survived the storm, growing steadily around the current of the wind.

“Mhm,” Adam said, carelessly shucking his pants and throwing them somewhere over his shoulder. When Adam finally laid atop Ronan, their skin warm against each other, all bone and muscle, they let out a collective hum of contentedness.

Adam was no longer fevered, his languid kisses slowed down the roar of Ronan’s heart under Adam’s fingertips, pressed to his neck. With slow pressure, Adam brought them back to equilibrium, hands running down Ronan’s sides, bruising Ronan’s thighs, catching on his hipbones. It was a long drag of hands, lips across Ronan’s cheeks and jaw and neck, skin burning and sweating.

The Barns had its own centralized magical air conditioning, but they were traditionalists, and the two windows across from the bed were open. The midnight breeze tasted heady and smelled like the moments before a rain storm, the quiet promise of rebirth, a slate washed clean.

With a sigh, Adam wrapped Ronan in a sort of hug, their lips moving together now, not fighting but allowing, accepting. Ronan rolled them over to their sides, so that they could tangle their bare legs together, Adam’s arms finally spanning across Ronan’s shoulders so he could hold him close.

Adam didn’t remark when Ronan reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube that Adam hadn’t known was there. He was also unsurprised when Ronan guided Adam’s hand between his legs.

Ronan hummed and hitched a leg up around Adam’s waist, his eyes falling closed as Adam pushed his middle finger inside his entrance. There was no fight now, the beast had gone soft, Adam pressed his lips and teeth into the skin by Ronan’s ear, by the corner of his mouth. A second finger joined his first inside Ronan, his other arm still slung around Ronan’s shoulders, keeping him close as Ronan’s hands tightened inexorably, fingers digging into the meat of Adam’s thigh and back.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ronan whispered, into the quiet of the room. And the room was quiet, Adam suddenly realized. The only noise was the gentle presence of the wind and the heavy breaths taken by both boys as they tried to hold onto themselves and each other.

With a hard kiss, Adam surely twisted his fingers inside of Ronan, pulling out to the first knuckle before slamming back inside. With a keening whine, Ronan’s abs contracted hard, his back arching without permission, his cock hard against the inside of Adam’s thigh.

“Fuck you, Parrish,” Ronan said, less soft but equally sincere, head thrown back against the brace of Adam’s forearm, eyes rolling into the back of his head as Adam built up a rhythm, a hammering pace that offered no mistake. It was an understatement to say that Adam was a bit smug at the way Ronan was losing control in his arms. “God, Jesus, get _in me_.”

Adam huffed a laugh as he slowed his hand, mouth returning to Ronan’s, so immediately passionate that it could be easy to mistake for an attempt to eat Ronan whole.

“Bossy.”

Adam did, eventually, roll Ronan over on his stomach, brace himself, chest to back, and slip inside. Ronan was a creature of energy, burning bright and untethered, moaning wildly as Adam carefully tried to alleviate any suggestion of pain. His mouth next to Ronan’s ear, Adam kissed any place he could reach, whispered how beautiful he was, how wild he was. Comfortably under the weight, Ronan held tight to any part of Adam’s arms he could reach and sighed in pleasure as Adam began to rock forward.

It didn’t last very long at all--they were teenagers anyway, albeit were teenagers in love, despite the fact that they had never said it out loud. So Ronan groaned and cursed and sighed at the friction between Adam’s body and the bed sheets underneath him, twisting and fighting with pleasure and his generally contrary tendencies. Adam laughed and kissed his neck and his shoulderblades and wrangled with him, holding his hands and curling his toes under Ronan’s thighs as he straddled his ass, knees splaying sideways, chasing his orgasm with an uncomplicated rhythm of desperation.

They didn’t come together, because that was an anomaly, but Adam did roll Ronan over to kiss his face and then his hips and then his cock, taking him his mouth lazy and languid, one hand curled around the base just as he liked.

Ronan swore his way to an orgasm, groaning afterwards as Adam wiped his mouth, smirking self-assuredly. As he tended to do, Ronan blushed a bit at the tip of his ears and threw an arm over his eyes, grumbling under his breath as Adam tossed away the condom and laid next to him again.

“Are you embarrassed?” Adam asked, chuckling rolling onto his side, throwing his arms around Ronan again in a loose hug. Nipping at his forearm, Adam convinced Ronan to look at him, smiling, stretched and content.

Ronan finally accepted the hug, pulling Adam close to his chest, allowing him to bathe in the satisfaction of the afterglow. As he nuzzled into the crook of Ronan’s neck and shoulder, Adam waited to feel different, to feel like the non-virgin he now was.

It took a minute, for their heartbeats to return to something akin to normal, and for Ronan to finally look him in the eyes, considering.

“I could do this again,” Ronan admitted, raising an eyebrow.

“I might be convinced,” Adam agreed, smiling and melting the pillows and Ronan’s arms sleepily.

It wasn’t the sex that made the relationship, Adam realized, as Ronan kissed his eyelids and pulled the blankets over them. He had already found his home in Ronan, found his peace sleeping in his arms every night. Adam and Ronan already trusted each other with their lives, it was no different with their bodies.

“Hey, Ronan,” Adam said, his voice betraying his sudden sleepiness. “I like you, did you know?”

“Fucking go to sleep, Parrish, you sap.” Ronan gruffed, but his arm flopped somewhere off to the side to turn off the single bedside light. In the dark, Ronan grabbed one of Adam’s hands and brought it to his lips. “I may just like you too.”

“Don’t worry,” Adam said, drifting into sleep, “I won’t tell anyone.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> a couple more headcannons that i can't NOT share:  
> Adam is most definitely part native american, probably from one of the virginia tribes like the powhatans or monocans, this makes the most sense with both his appearance (consistently remarked upon tan skin, high cheekbones, "alien", aka non-caucasian, facial features), his insatiable desire to "escape" Henrietta's hold on him, and yet his magical and spiritual connection to both nature and dreams. Also, he studies mechanical engineering at Princeton, nerd.  
> Ronan spray painted his old tennis racket black, he hangs it over the fireplace, sometimes he takes it down to hit balls across the yard with Bear. He is also really inexplicably active on Facebook.  
> Opal is making her way through every single murder mystery book, they're fascinating and weird to her, her favorites are agatha christie and the hardy boys, thankfully she has also grown out of her habit of eating sticks.  
> Blue knits Adam a really awesome blanket for his dorm room, she also eventually gets a business degree from the local community college and starts her own crafts store (at some point she would make an awesome high school art teacher).  
> Gansey takes a year off then goes to Georgetown where he becomes the classics/history department darling, he becomes an expert in Celtic myth, legend, and lore - at some point far in the future natgeo contacts him for a documentary about Glendower, he squeals and nearly faints with excitement  
> Cheng starts about ten non-profits and becomes vegan, which no one understands bc there's no way all that hair gel is natural. Eventually takes over his mom's antique business, but with a lot less underhand tactics and a lot more general goofiness  
>  
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, come say hi @ tastethisdawn.tumblr.com!!


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